Prim's Story
by Cassy J
Summary: Is Prim really as sweet and innocent as she seems? Or does she have a darker side lurking just below the surface? The events of the Hunger Games, from Prim's POV.
1. Chapter 1

Prim's Story, Chapter 1

I wake up gasping, bathed in a cold sweat. I look across the bed and am relieved to find Katniss, my older sister, sleeping soundly. Yet for some reason, though I am safe here, my heart keeps pounding. I had a bad dream, but I can't quite remember what it was about. Besides, I usually don't have bad dreams, and even when I do the fear quickly fades when I wake up and realize that none of it was real. Why was today any different? And then I remember.

Today is the Reaping.

I lie back down in the bed and almost begin to cry, but manage to hold the tears back. It will be my first Reaping, and there are no words strong enough to describe how afraid I am. I wonder how long I have until I have to get leave. I look out the window, and judging by the light I'd say it can't be any later than 3:00 AM. I take a shuddering breath and quietly slide out of bed and go to lie down with my mother. As soon as I am settled in, my cat, Buttercup, crawls up next to me. Despite what has happened, and what I fear will happen, I smile. I doubt I'll be able to sleep, but I close my eyes anyway, and I am soon drifting of to sleep again.

XX

When I wake up, my mom is already getting ready for the Reaping. Katniss is gone, probably out with her friend Gale. I really do wish she was here with me right now, but I smile when I see that the little goat cheese I left for her last night is gone. She must have taken it with her when she went to meet Gale.

"Come, Prim, we have to get you ready," calls my mother from her room.

I walk over to her and see the outfits she has set out for me and Katniss.

For me, she has laid out Katniss's first Reaping outfit, a simple little skirt and blouse. My mother helps pin it up with safety pins as I get dressed.

Soon my sister comes back home. She goes to bathe, and after puts on a blue dress, one of my mother's, with shoes to match. Then my mother braids her hair.

"You look beautiful," I tell her, and I mean it.

"And nothing like myself," She replies with an unhappy look on her face.

XX

At about one o'clock we head over to the reaping. I'm worried, both for me and for Katniss. Katniss is in much more danger than I am, her having to take the tesserae and all, and I can't stand the thought of losing her, so naturally I'm afraid for her. But even more than that I'm afraid for myself. Everyone keeps telling me how it's okay, I'm as safe as it gets, my name is only entered once out of the hundreds of thousands of names in there, how twelve-year-olds like me never get chosen anyway. But I don't believe them, and I'm still scared. I don't care how safe everybody says I am. The tiniest chance that I'll get chosen is just that: a chance. And I can't ignore that.

As we move towards the check-in, I notice all the camera crews around us, filming our reactions. It's sick how they use this for entertainment.

Katniss and I separate to go off into our age groups. The groups are roped of, one for each year from twelve-year-olds all the way up to eighteen-year-olds.

As soon as I hear the town clock strike two, Mayor Undersee stands up at the podium and begins reading a speech. Just like every year, it is the history of Panem. I tune him out. No point in listening to him anyway, hearing about all the disasters and war and most of all the pathetic explanations for why we have the Hunger Games would only depress me further. I only started listening when he began explaining the rules. Of course, I'd heard these before as well, but I never paid very close attention. After all, there was never a chance that I might compete before this year.

The mayor explained that each of the districts 1-12 had to provide two "tributes," as they call them, a boy and a girl. The chosen kids will be trapped in a sort of mystery arena for as long as it takes for all but one tribute to be killed in a fight to the death.

Cheery, isn't it?

He then lists the past District 12 victors. There are only two. One is dead. The other is a Haymitch Abernathy, a middle-aged drunk who is attempting to stagger onto the stage. He'll be the one mentoring the two chosen tributes this year, as he is the only available victor from our district.

Yeah, we're in pretty good shape here.

The mayor desperately attempts to bring the attention back to the Reaping by introducing our Capitol representative, Effie Trinket, who is currently on the stage being hugged by a drunken Haymitch. Any other day I would have laughed, but not today. Today I was just plain terrified, and as I watch Effie goes over to the glass ball containing all the girls' names, I take a deep breath and try to stay calm. Just one more minute, and I won't have to be scared anymore.

Effie reaches in and pulls out a single slip of paper. The crowd is silent as Effie reads the name.

"Primrose Everdeen."


	2. Chapter 2

Prim's Story, Chapter 2

I feel myself go numb and break out in a cold sweat, like when I wake from my nightmares. How could this happen? Everyone said I was safe. Everyone told me that I had nothing to worry about. They lied to me. How could they lie to me? How could I get chosen? This wasn't supposed to happen. I feel my knees go weak and I'm afraid that I'll fall over. I feel light-headed and my vision starts to blur. But then it hits me.

There's nothing I can do to change it. I've already been chosen. No amount of crying, of screaming, of hating everyone who _lied _to me can change that. I may as well accept it now, or else I'll be forced to accept it by an armed group of Peacekeepers.

So I clench my hands into fists and walk stiffly up towards the stage. It takes all of my willpower not to look at Katniss, my big sister- no, my best friend, as I walk up. I know this could be the last chance I get to see her, but I would surely be reduced to tears at the sight of her. And I can't cry now. I have to show the Capitol that I don't care, that their little games mean nothing to me-

"Prim! Prim!" I hear Katniss shrieking my name from somewhere behind me. And as I am about to mount the steps to the stage, I am roughly shoved out of the way.

"I volunteer!" Katniss cries, and I realize it was her that pushed out of the way. "I volunteer as tribute!"

I freeze. She… volunteers? For some reason I feel an odd sense of euphoria. I'm elated, after all I'm not a tribute anymore! I almost jump with joy, but then I look back at Katniss. I go cold all over again. How could I possibly be happy right now? I feel sick, no, I _am _sick. How could I ever be anything other than horrified when I know that the person closest to me is most likely going to die in a death tournament, and to top it all of because of me? I want to throw up thinking about what kind of person I must be. Everyone sees me as a sweet little girl, as adorable little Prim, but inside I must be a monster. A selfish, evil, monster. I can't think about that right now, though. I have to leave it for another time, because right now I see Katniss walking toward the stage, willing to die for me, a monster of a little sister. It should be me.

I start crying hysterically and running after Katniss. My arms wrap themselves around her almost of their own accord and even though she tugs at my arms, I refuse to let her go. "No, Katniss! You can't go!" I scream, but to no avail.

"Prim, let go," Katniss says in a stern tone of voice. She's not playing around, and everyone knows it, but still I don't let go. I can't.

But I feel someone tugging at me from behind, gently lifting me away from Katniss. I turn around with murder in my eyes only to see Gale. "Up you go, Catnip," He calls to my sister. I thrash around, but he doesn't let me down until Katniss has reached the stage and he has carried me to the crowd where my mother stands.

XX

The rest of the Reaping was just a blur of tears and screams, and I don't remember much past Gale pulling me away from Katniss so that she could walk onto the stage.

Katniss. As the Peacekeepers walk my mother and me into the room where family and friends can say their goodbyes to the new tributes, all I can think about is Katniss. Katniss who has always taken care of me. Katniss who made sure we were always okay when my mother wasn't able. Katniss who hated my cat, Buttercup, but let me keep him anyway because she saw how happy he made me. Katniss who I love more than anything in the world, even Buttercup, and even my mother. All of this is rushing through my head. But the freshest thought in my mind is Katniss, who saved my life by volunteering to take my place in the Hunger Games.

My mother and I quietly enter the room where Katniss is staying. We don't have long, and Katniss knows it. As soon as I climb onto her lap and wrap my arms around her, she begins lecturing us on what to do when she's gone.

I don't really listen to what she tells us. I almost smile at the fact that here we are, saying goodbye, and Katniss is still lecturing us, still taking care of us just like she always has. She seems so cool and composed, so focused and I wonder how she manages to stay calm, when it dawns on me that she doesn't have to stay calm at all. Katniss isn't perfect, regardless of what I'd like to think. Inside she must be boiling over with all sorts of thoughts and emotions, but you'd never know it by looking at her. I suddenly become aware of Katniss yelling. Maybe her perfect exterior had cracks after all.

"Then take it, And take care of her!" Katniss exclaims. Her and my mother are arguing about something. I don't know what, but I have got to stop them.

"I'll be all right, Katniss," I say, giving her a hug. "But you have to take care, too. You're so fast and brave. Maybe you can win."

"Maybe," she says, and I know that she doesn't believe she has a chance. "Then we'd be rich like Haymitch."

"I don't care if we're rich. I just want you to come home. You will try, won't you? Really, really, try?" I plead with her. And it's true. I couldn't care less if we had all the money in the world, if we could live in the Capitol for crying out loud, if it meant having to lose Katniss.

And then I see that the Peacekeeper who escorted my mother and I in is at the door, signaling that it's time to go. That our time is up, and for some of us that takes on a whole new meaning.

We're all hugging each other, my mother and Katniss and I, and I say "I love you, I love you both," and they say it back before the Peacekeeper interrupts us and orders us away from Katniss.

As we walk away, I know that I'm not simply walking away from a door. I'm walking away from a sister, and I left a piece of myself behind with her. As I exit through hallway and walk into the bright, warm, sunlight, a whole new chapter of my life begins.

XX


	3. Chapter 3

Prim's Story, Chapter 3

As my mother and I are heading back home, I notice the baker from the Seam walk into the room where we visited Katniss. I thought nothing of it until my mother commented that isn't it odd that he's visiting Katniss even though she will be competing against his own son? I agree with her, but I don't say anything. I can hardly think, I'm so exhausted, and all my energy is spent trying not to trip over anything as we walk home. My mom senses this and drops the conversation without trying to get a response out of me.

Finally, you're doing something right, I think. I know it's a cruel thing to even think about my mother, but it's true. When my father died, I was only seven years old, and Katniss was only eleven. Neither of us were even near old enough to have to take care of ourselves on our own. But that's what we had to do. My mom went into some kind of awful depression when he died, like she didn't have the will to live, let alone the will to take care of her two kids who desperately needed her help.

When we finally reach our house, I head straight for the bed. The one that Katniss and I share, instead of my mother's, where I usually go. I want to be with my mother, to comfort her and have her comfort me, but thinking about the way she was after dad died has just made me angry at her for what she did. I must have been glaring at her without realizing it though, because when I look up I see her staring back at me with teary eyes. Her mouth opens, as though she's trying to say something, but no words come out. She rushes out of the room before I can say anything,

I want to call to her back as she leaves and tell her that it's okay, that I wasn't mad at her, but I don't. It would be a lie anyway, and today of all days there's no point in lying to each other. I look around the room and my eyes fall on our big beat-up chair. This was where my mother used to sit in those dark months, no, years after my father died. She would just sit there, blankly staring, all day and all night. I'm not sure if she even slept. In the first month or so Katniss and I were more considerate of her. We would go sit by her and talk to her, hoping to break through whatever was stopping her from being like she used to be. Even when we didn't feel like just sitting and talking to her, we would try to be near her all the time. About a month of this later, and Katniss couldn't take it anymore. We were in the middle of talking to her, pleading with her to just get up and be normal again like it used to be, when Katniss snapped and started screaming at her.

She said awful things, how she was a terrible mother and how she abandoned us and how she was supposed to take care of us, not the other way around. It scared me. I'd seen Katniss get mad before, but somehow this was different. Somehow after that I knew that she really, truly, _hated _my mother. Eventually Katniss had left. She went straight to bed.

But after Katniss went to sleep I saw something that I never told her about. I stayed with my mother even after Katniss was fast asleep. As soon as she had left the room, I saw a single tear slide down my mother's cheek. I looked up at her, still staring blankly off into the distance, and I saw something. There was pain in her eyes. Not physical pain, like when you fall and skin your knee, but a different kind. It was like she wanted to move, to get up, to help us, and to be the normal mother that she used to be before everything went wrong. She wanted to, but something in her mind was stopping her.

That's when I decided to give up. Somehow I sensed that no amount of talking to her was going to break through whatever barrier was in her mind. She had to do it herself, whenever she was ready.

I don't know exactly why I never told Katniss about what I saw. Katniss went the rest of the time from then up until now hating my mother. But I could never really hate her because I knew that it wasn't her fault that she wasn't getting up. She didn't have a choice.

"Come, Prim, we have to watch the Reapings now," my mother calls.

I almost forgot. Every year after the Reapings, that Capitol likes us to relive all the horror of the day all over again by making us watch a recap of it. And yes, just like every other thing in the districts that makes you miserable, it's mandatory.

When they finally get to District 12, the last one, I almost start crying again. I watch myself walking towards the stage before Katniss jumps in and volunteers. As soon as the Reapings are finished the program ends, and I go off into my room. I lie down on my bed, reflecting on everything that happened today. Thinking about it now, it seems like a lifetime's worth of stuff. How can all that be packed into just a few hours? How can… It doesn't seem…

My thoughts become just random blurs of words that I can't make sense of as I slowly drift off to sleep.

XX

THE END

Please review, I'd love to have your opinions! (Oh and P.S. I'm planning on ending this here, but if enough people ask I will continue writing from Prim's POV.)


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